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Full text of "To The Lighthouse"

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them), and work it into the picture; or if one
thought of her simply as a woman, one must
endow her with some freak of idiosyncrasy; or
suppose some latent desire to doff her royalty of
form as if her beauty bored her and all that men
say of beauty, and she wanted only to be like other
people, insignificant. He did not know. He did
not know. He must go to his work.)

Knitting her reddish - brown hairy stocking,
with her head outlined absurdly by the gilt frame,
the green shawl which she had tossed over the
edge of the frame, and the authenticated master-
piece by Michael Angelo, Mrs. Ramsay smoothed
out what had been harsh in her manner a moment
before, raised his head, and kissed her little boy
on the forehead. cc Let's find another picture to
cut out," she said.

But what had happened?

Someone had blundered.

Starting from her musing she gave meaning
to words which she had held meaningless in her
mind for a long stretch of time. " Someone had
blundered "—Fixing her short-sighted eyes upon
her husband, who was now bearing down upon
her, she gazed steadily until his closeness revealed
to her (the jingle mated itself in her head) that